Heaven
I look all around and clouds are ablaze as far as I can see. Blood rains from above with torn and mutilated wings littering the air. Fallen ones laugh coldly as their former brethren drop from the sky, defeated. The Underlord smiles maniacally leaning against a broken pillar, gleaming black pitchfork in hand while burning white flames swirl from the end. A large, ornate golden throne lies toppled on its side nearby. An armrest is broken off and one leg is missing. Bodies are strewn everywhere. Some charred, some still smoldering giving off the stench of death. The Figure In Black lingers near, grasping his scythe as if to strike, but his attention is drawn down. He stops to place a hand upon one of the bodies. The hood raises up, and though no face can be seen, the gaze is directed toward The Father of Lies. An old, raspy voice stuns the fallen and flighted into shock as they hear the voice that has never spoken, "What have you done?"
Hell
A picture perfect party
of people I've met.
Doing things once illegal,
things I've tried to get.
But for them once is fun,
then it's never enough.
In Satan's 9th circle,
they laugh and they dwell,
for the things they desire,
that are never enough.
Ireland
Distant shores I ne'r seen.
My blood that's linked
to the land of green.
The Blarney Stone, Dublin,
places to see.
Travel my heart
to put me at peace.
Find me a pub,
and maybe a lass.
From this life when I pass,
find a fine graveyard,
lay me 'neath it's grass.
If I ne'r see Ireland,
grant me one wish.
Burn my corpse to ashes
and spread them at sea.
Let them travel their way
to my soul's 'ternal peace.
